Hand-colored Picture of Edwin and Rebecca Hill Pettit

Pettit cousin Cheryl S. sent a copy of a picture of Edwin and Rebecca Hood Hill Pettit. The image was hand-colored, perhaps by the photographer, perhaps by someone else working in the studio.

My younger daughter was particularly impressed by Rebecca's jewelry, including her earrings, and with the color of Edwin's eyes. How much have the colors changed since the original work was done? How much have all those greens changed? Were Edwin's eyes really lavender?

Here is an interesting article about hand-colored images, including some notes about preservation. (Editor's note: the article recommends self-preservation of some images, but expert advice is appropriate in many cases.)

Thanks, Cheryl! What an amazing picture!

Notable Relatives: Mildred Tanner Pettit

Next in the Notable Relatives series is the composer Mildred Tanner Pettit.

Laura Mildred Tanner was a great granddaughter of John Tanner and Elizabeth Beswick Tanner. In 1921 she married William Alfred Pettit, the son of Edwin Pettit and Rebecca Hood Hill Pettit.

Mildred Tanner Pettit's short biography in Our Latter-Day Hymns mentions that she taught school for several years before marrying William Pettit when he finished medical school.

After some time in Salt Lake City, where she served on the Primary General Board and was heavily involved in musical programs for that organization, she and her husband left for Philadelphia. While there she was able to get advanced musical training. After about a year, Will and Mildred moved to Southern California, where they spent the rest of their lives. She was very active in the community, as noted in her obituary, recently added to the memorial site FindAGrave.

Will served as president of the Pasadena Stake. He wrote the book Pettit Peregrinations, which contains a wealth of information about the Edwin and Rebecca Hood Hill Pettit family.

Mildred continued to be very involved in composing church music. Here are some posts about some of her music. ("Christmas Carol") ("The Holy Child") ("Visiting a Primary Meeting, 1933") (Recordings of some of her lesser-known tunes here.)

In a story that's been frequently told, Naomi Randall wrote the words for the children's song "I Am a Child of God," and sent them to Pasadena to have Mildred Pettit write the music.

I will include a post later about a visit with Will and Mildred Pettit written one of my great aunts.

Here is a recording of the song which is known and loved by many members of the Church around the world.

Picture of Mildred Tanner Pettit from Friend, October 1984, p. 14.

Some Notes about the Edwin and Rebecca Hood Hill Pettit Family

Edwin Pettit and grandchildren.

When I looked up Alice Pettit online after the mention of her in Mary Pettit's diary, it quickly became clear that many of the online family trees for the Edwin Pettit family are inaccurate at best.

There is a good source for information on the Pettit family. It is the book:

Pettit, William Alfred. Pettit Peregrinations, 654 to 1961. Provo, Utah: J. Grant Stevenson, 1963.

The book was written by Edwin and Rebecca Hill Pettit's youngest son Will Pettit, and includes a wealth of family information. You can purchase a copy here.

Although I will not put the entire family tree here with documentation, here are some basic facts.

First, Edwin Pettit did not have a middle name. His middle name was not Alfred. Alfred was his older brother. (See photograph below.)

Second, Edwin Pettit did not marry a woman named Elizabeth Sparks. He did not have children in Texas.

Edwin Pettit was born on February 16, 1834, in Hempstead, Queens, Long Island, New York. Hempstead is now in Nassau County, but at the time it was in Queens County, and for genealogical purposes, vital facts should be listed with the locations as they were at the time of the event, so Hempstead should be listed in Queens.

Edwin's parents were Jesse and Mary Pettit Pettit. His father and mother were first cousins, both grandchildren of Increase and Martha Eldert Pettit. The family was of English and Dutch origin and many ancestors had been among the early European settlers of North America.

The Pettit family joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in 1840 and moved to join the Saints in Lee County, Iowa, across the Mississippi River from Nauvoo, Illinois. There, Jesse and Mary died in 1842. Edwin and his sister Mary Pettit Seeley went with the Saints to Utah. Edwin's oldest sister Emaline Pettit Carman was married and had remained in Hempstead, Long Island. Edwin's brothers remained in the Midwest.

Edwin, William, and Alfred Pettit.

Edwin went to California in the Gold Rush, then again to California with the San Bernardino settlers. He returned to Utah in 1857. His autobiography can be found starting here.

Edwin Pettit married Maria Pettit Bush, his second cousin, in 1860. She had been married previously to Richard Bush and had two living children, Richard Nelson Bush and John Pettit Bush. A daughter, Ellen Elmira Bush, had died before her first birthday. 

Edwin and Maria had a daughter, Alice Maria, born in 1861. 

Maria Pettit died in 1863.

Edwin Pettit married Rebecca Hood Hill in 1864.

These are their children with spouses listed in parenthesis: 

• Mary Isabell (Henry Green)
• Clara Hannah (died at age 1)
• Emeline (Foster Jones)
• Edwin Jr. (Sarah Louise Weichert)
• Lillian (Benjamin Birkinshaw)
• Daisy (Cassius Cummings)
• Florence (died as infant)
• Nellie (Thomas Morton)
• Fannie Rebecca (died unmarried at age 27)
• Archibald (Genevieve Johnson)
• Elsie (Victor Rue McKnight)
• Jesse Raymond (Phyllis Clayton)
• Winifred (Bertram Reeves)
• William Alfred (Mildred Tanner)

Edwin and Rebecca Pettit.

Rebecca and Edwin died in Salt Lake City, Rebecca on September 17, 1922, and Edwin on April 17, 1924.

I will not provide examples of the erroneous files regarding Edwin Pettit and his families, but there are plenty, and they should be corrected or removed by the people who put them online. I will also note that I have seen files regarding the colonial ancestors of the Pettits that have truly egregious and easily correctable errors. The purpose of doing genealogy, especially when putting it online, is not to copy large sets of data from whatever family trees are available in whatever source, but to collect and publish correct, documented information.

Historical picture of Hempstead from Atlas of Long Island, New York (Beers, 1873) as found at http://digitalgallery.nypl.org/nypldigital/id?1527304. Pictures of Edwin and grandchildren, Edwin and Rebecca, and Edwin and his two brothers sent by Sharon Wilbur. Images of family Bible are from user katy02 from Ancestry.com.

Seen at the DUP Museum

The Daughters of Utah Pioneers has a rather amazing museum, stuffed with pioneer artifacts and pictures and histories, next to the Utah State Capitol. During a visit yesterday, while in the basement display room, my eye fell on a green tin, about 6" wide by 6" high (plus a handle) by about 4" deep.

The typed display note said, "Tea canister bought in Farmington, Canada in 1840 by Isabella Hood. She died in Winter Quarters in 1847. Donor Edwin Pettit."

The tin is a green color, much used, and what is of the most interest was a paper pasted to the front of the tin. It said, in beautiful lettering,

This tin Canister [sic] was Bought by my wife Isabella Hood in Farmington 27 Miles North of the [unreadable] in Toronto Canada Just before we were married [unreadable] February 27th 1840. She died in Winter Quarters 20. March 1847 A. N. Hill

What an interesting and unusual primary source!

Picture of the Daughters of Utah Pioneers Museum from www.flickr.com/photos/katieelaine/1785518052/.

Edwin Pettit Autobiography, Part 9

On one occasion, when returning from the coast, I met two men who were on their way to California for freight, and we camped together at Cain Springs on the Santa Clara River. I was very well acquainted with both of them. On returning their journey they were riding at the head of their train. When they had gone quite a distance ahead of their train, some Indians who were traveling along with them, after pretending to be friendly, shot them both in the back with arrows. This happened out on the desert. One of them was killed there and the other was taken into San Bernardino and died from his wounds. I have since seen the grave where one of them was buried. Thus ended the lives of two brave men.

One evening we turned our mules out to graze for a short time preparatory for a journey across the desert. As they strayed away, one of the boys followed to bring them back, and while doing this two Indians ran into the herd and shot four mules. I heard him holler and jumped up on the front of the wagon box to see what the trouble was. I saw the mules running, and I called to the other boys as I grabbed my revolver and ran to help this fellow. We could not catch one of the mules to ride on or we could have got the Indians, as we saw them run up into the hills. The owner of the mules declared vengeance, as we knew that the Indians would follow us to get the meat of the dead animals. The four mules died the following morning, as they had been shot with poisoned arrows. The man wanted to remain and get the Indians when they came up for the meat, but being tired and sleepy they gave up that idea for fear that they would get too far behind the train on the desert and would suffer for water. On this same trip we got snowed in the canyons, and it was necessary for the men to break the trail before the wagons and mules could be taken through the snow.

On leaving San Bernardino, when the trouble there arose between the Mormons and the government, those who were not of our faith were afraid the Mormons would try to smuggle ammunition back into Salt Lake with them. The marshal of San Bernardino [1] asked me to accompany him in a light spring wagon, into the canyon to carry ammunition and firearms to deliver to those who were coming to Salt Lake. Why he should have selected me for this errand was somewhat of a mystery to me, as I was rather young for such an undertaking. This, of course, was not strictly in accordance with the law at the time, but we were anxious to assist our friends who were returning to Salt Lake.

On one occasion, while traveling with a man and his wife with their family of eight children, we were snowbound, with teams that had given out. We were without wood, water or grass, and night coming on. We could see in the distance some small pine trees. My companion took an axe on his shoulder and I followed him with a yoke of oxen to get some wood. We took it back to camp, scraped the snow away; made a fire; boiled a kettle of potatoes and sat on the wagon tongue to eat them. It seemed to me I never ate a better meal. That night our horses ran away and left us, being driven by the storm for twenty miles. I followed them and brought them back. This was extremely risky as there was great danger in being lost in the snow storm.

On October 29, 1864, I married Rebecca Hood Hill, daughter of Archibald N. and Isabella Hood Hill. [2] We settled in the Fourteenth Ward of Salt Lake City, where we lived for about eight years. We then moved to the present location. We have had a family of ten girls and four boys.

In 1882 I made a trip to California on a visit to see some of my old friends. In 1905 I, in company with my wife and four of my daughters, visited Southern California, spending about six weeks in seeing some of the familiar places so dear to me and visiting with my former friends. I was invited to address the Pioneer Society (of which I am a member) in San Bernardino.

After forty-two years I visited my native home in Long Island, and found there many of my old acquaintances and relatives.

I have enjoyed the West. Have seen it under every condition, from the comparatively early days, and traversed it for the mere love of recreation. I finally settled in Salt Lake and made my home in the Fourteenth Ward for a short time, later moving to the present location, where I have spent the last forty years. I have crossed the desert between here and Los Angeles seventeen times by team and three times by rail. I am not only a Pioneer of 1847, but also of 1851, being one of those who went to fill the first mission in California.

FINIS

[1] The San Bernardino Police Officers Association Website lists the early marshals of San Bernardino (1853-1905) as Bud Rollins, Stewart Wall (1836-), George Mattheson, Frank Kerfoot, Charles Landers, Mark Thomas, John C. Ralphs, L. Van Dorin, Joseph Bright, Hughes Thomas, David Wixom, William Reeves, John Henderson, Ben Souther, and Walter A. Shay. The marshal in 1857 would probably have been one of the first of those listed.

[2] Edwin Pettit was married first to Maria Pettit. Note from Edwin and Rebecca's son William Pettit, Sr.: On February 27, 1861, his first child was born; a girl who received the name of Alice Maria Pettit. The mother, Maria Pettit, died on May 20, 1863 when Alice was a few days less than twenty-seven months old.

This left Father with a home and three children, two boys and a baby girl, to care for. His business took him away from home a great part of the time. Richard Bush, born August 2, 1850, was thirteen years old and John P. Bush, born September 9, 1856, was seven years old when their mother died. This was a great responsibility and undoubtedly a great worry for a man twenty-nine years old who had never been tied down to a home life until he was twenty-six years old.

Father always attended Church when he was near a Mormon Church. I remember going to Church with him when I had to hold on to his hand and he would help me partake of the Sacrament. Living in the Fourteenth Ward he undoubtedly participated in the Ward activities.

Sources

Pettit, Edwin. “Biography of Edwin Pettit: 1834-1912,” in Pettit Peregrinations: 654 to 1961 by William A. Pettit, Sr. Pasadena: privately printed, 1961; reprint, Salt Lake City: privately printed, 1988.

Pettit, William A., Sr. Pettit Peregrinations.

Family pictures from "A Picture Book," author unknown.

Edwin Pettit Autobiography, Part 8

On one of my trips, when camping at noon, four or five Indians came to me asking for something to eat. After standing around for a few moments, they asked me if I was a Mormon. There were three or four other men with me at the time, and I said to the Indian “No, those fellows Mormons,” just in a joke. After a short time he said: “Are you Mormon?” I said, “No, those fellows Mormons.” He said, “You lie.” At this time the Indians were very troublesome on account of having trouble at Mountain Meadow. The other men were very much afraid of having trouble with them at this time, but I fixed them a meal of my famous paste, made of one pint of flour and four gallons of water brought to a boil, which they all enjoyed very much. They then felt much more peaceable.

Late one afternoon, when looking for a place to camp where there was plenty of grass, some Indians came to me and said there was plenty of grass just around the nearby hill. They said they would take my mules around where there was good grass if I would give them a shirt. While I was considering this proposition and getting something to eat, they said they would herd my mules and bring them in in the morning. After they had finished their meal, they were more talkative, and asked me for a shirt and some pants. I finally told them what I wanted, and ordered them off, and they soon left. I took my best riding mule, put a chain around her neck and fastened it to the wagon, knowing that the Indians would crawl up and cut a rope, but they could not cut a chain. We then took our animals back where the Indians had told us to go for grass and turned them loose. My one mule was secured in this manner in order that I would have something to get away with in case the Indians drove the others away. The mule squealed, pawed and jerked at the wagon so there was no sleeping done that night. We lay on the ground just far enough away so that we would not get stepped on, and at the break of day I went for my mules and found them all right. If I had allowed these Indians to take care of my animals and herd them, they were to leave two or three Indians in camp for me to keep as security for the return of the mules.

After crossing the desert with my two companions from Parowan, we reached the Muddy and found a number of Indians here. We had to feed them as usual. I also had to prepare for crossing the big desert—about fifty-four miles. I had to cook, fill up our water barrels, get my supper and start out again in the late afternoon when it was cool. Therefore, I had to stay here an hour or two. That night when we started on the desert, two Indians followed me. I asked them where they were going. They said “To Vegas.” I told them they could not go with me, for I did not have water or feed for them, and they must go back. But they would not do it. They followed me about eighteen miles, when I stopped to give my mules a bucket of water and a little grain, and make some coffee for myself. I would not feed the Indians nor give them a drink. They left me and started up a canyon. I traveled several miles and never saw anything of them. The next time I stopped to repeat the same thing, I started away from camp and was about forty rods away, and the fire blazed up. Happening to be looking back, I saw the two Indians standing by the fire. They had been watching me all this time within a few rods of where I was getting my supper. Of course it was an accident on their part as they did not want to be seen. It was only for the lack of courage that they did not shoot my two companions and myself. They had followed me nearly thirty-five miles on the desert. After this I made no more stops on the desert, as I knew they were after me, but this was the last I saw of them.

On reaching a spring where I usually camped, I heard a horse whinny, and looking up on the ridge of the mountains, I saw a horse coming. It came right up to my team and I tied it up. This animal had been left by some party that was several days ahead of me, and it showed me that there were no Indians here, or this horse would not have lasted long. I took it into San Bernardino, and on arriving there my two companions went into a little grove to camp. There they met the party that had lost the animal on the desert. They reported to him that I had picked up this animal, so he came after it. I considered that I had as good or even better right to it than they, because they had left it never expecting to see it again, and I came along and saved the animal. To decide the matter we left it to three disinterested men, and they decided that a value be placed on the animal, and we were to either give or take. They decided that the animal was worth thirty dollars, and they gave me fifteen dollars and took the animal. That with the twenty dollars that the two men had paid me for the privilege of traveling with me made thirty-five dollars, which was quite a help on my journey.

To be continued...

You can try your hand at making the famous paste. It makes a great Family Home Evening activity. Here is the recipe in smaller quantity.

Edwin Pettit's Famous Paste

2 tablespoons flour

4 cups water

Whisk flour into water in a saucepan. Bring to a boil. Feed to starving indigenous peoples.

Photo of the desert near Las Vegas from www.flickr.com/photos/rich_adams/5387049100/. Photo of the joshua tree at sunrise from www.flickr.com/photos/johnmueller/243901662/. Photo of the Joshua tree in the winter from www.flickr.com/photos/vgm8383/2163374918/.

Edwin Pettit Autobiography, Part 7

During the following summer, on July 24th, just ten years to the day when the Saints entered the valley, a grand celebration was held in Big Cottonwood Canyon. I took part in this celebration, and it was during that time that word reached President Young that the soldiers were being sent out by the U.S. Government to take control of the people in this valley. The people were advised by President Young to move to the south, which most of them did, some of them going as far as Provo, leaving a few here to take care of their homes.

I moved south with the people, but continued my journey on to California, and thence east to the Colorado desert to dig some wells for the Overland Stage Route. We stayed there until our provisions were exhausted, expecting supplies to reach us, which they failed to do. That is where we took turns in chewing the last bacon rind until we were forced to break camp as we had neither water nor provisions. We walked thirty miles without a drink of water, after which I drank nine pints of warm water, similar to new milk. I don’t know what the others drank as I was too much interested in my own welfare. That is where I proved to my own satisfaction that I could stand as much hardship and fatigue as anybody, and more than most of them. When their tongues would begin to swell and their lips parch, and they became delirious and lay down to die, I was still in pretty good condition. Water had to be taken back for those that had given out but we lost no men. The trip was a failure financially, as we did not succeed in getting water. I again returned to San Bernardino and made an agreement with a party for me to furnish the use of $600.00 and a mule and he was to furnish the rest of the outfit to purchase goods to bring to Utah to sell, and we were to divide the profits, which we did, both being well satisfied.

From that time on for about ten years, I spent my time traveling in Utah, Nevada, and California, making trips into the gold mines in Montana. When the Union Pacific began to creep towards the coast, I went to Laramie, a distance of 600 miles, and took a hand in that enterprise. I drove a four-mule team to that point and worked for some time at $8.00 a day. One winter I started out from Salt Lake to Fort Bridger with freight, but the snow was so deep that it was impossible for me to proceed. I cached my freight at Coalville, and returned home after having both feet frozen; could not wear a shoe for several weeks.

On one of my journeys to California, I drove a team as far south as Parowan entirely alone, a distance of two hundred and fifty miles. My trips were generally made in the winter, and for that reason I endured many hardships from cold and exposure. At Parowan I made an agreement with two men, who had been waiting there for some time to make the trip to California, and they gave me $20.00 for the privilege of going with me, riding their own horses and feeding themselves. They only traveled with me for the sake of company. At one time our animals left us in the night and started back across the desert, and I followed them afoot twelve miles; overtook them and brought them back to camp, where the other two men had stayed. This was a big risk to take, as going out on the desert a person would soon perish for want of water, and had the animals started earlier in the night, I would have stood a good chance of being lost. I became rather reckless at times and took many chances on those various trips—more than most of the men whom I came in contact with.

To be continued...

Photo of Big Cottonwood Canyon from www.flickr.com/photos/spoiler_3/496289225/. Engraving of Brigham Young from Edward Tullidge's book Brigham Young. Photo of Wyoming from www.flickr.com/photos/stuckincustoms/611311642/.

Edwin Pettit Autobiography, Part 6

We spent the following winter in Salt Lake, and in March of the following spring, another big company of Mormons was fitted out to start for San Bernardino, being sent there by Brigham Young to establish a colony. My brother-in-law, David Seeley, was made captain of the company.

Photo of David Seely from the San Bernardino Public Library.

Again the ox teams plodded their weary way through the wild country. When camping for the night, our wagons were formed into a corral to hold the stock to keep them from the Indians. On one occasion the Indians drove off two of our cows which were never recovered.

While I was on guard at the mouth of the corral one night, the Indians fired a shower of arrows at two men who were sitting by a camp fire. The fire was extinguished immediately, but it caused a great excitement in the camp. There were a number of arrows picked up next morning, but they had gone wide of their mark and no one was hurt.

Two nights after that, while I was out herding the cattle, an Indian passed between me and the herd, shooting arrows at them. I did not stop him, nor even say goodbye, for fear he would take a shot at me. He shot one mule and one ox in broad daylight, but they did not prove to be poisoned arrows, consequently we pulled the arrows out and the animals both got well.

Don Antonio Maria Lugo. Lugo is dressed in the customary costume of gentlemen from León, Spain. Photo from the San Bernardino Public Library.

We finally encamped at Sycamore Grove, at the mouth of the Calhoun pass, June 11th of the same year. Negotiations immediately were opened with the Lugos, which resulted in a sale of the great ranch, covering a great portion of the present San Bernardino valley, for the sum of $75,000. The Mexicans took their herds of horses and wild cattle with them, leaving the bare ground for the new owners.

First, a stockade was erected, for Indians lurked in the mountains and on the plains. Several ranchers from around about joined the settlers, and the earth felt the touch of agriculture for the first time since the creation. Fields were plowed and planted, and in the following spring the townsite was surveyed and laid out in town lots of one acre each.

I put in a crop of grain and went to farming. I paid $125.00 for a one-acre lot in San Bernardino, and in a short time bought the next one to it, and paid $200.00, which made me the possessor of a quarter of a block. My brother-in-law purchased land directly across the street where my sister and family lived. I worked in the mountains logging, at the saw-mill, and finally, after about six years’ time, returned to Salt Lake.

I have seen service with the San Bernardino rangers or “Minute Men.” This was a company formed to intimidate and hold in check the lawless with which the country abounded at that time.

When I decided to return to Salt Lake, I traded my two lots in San Bernardino for a small home in Salt Lake City in the Fourteenth Ward. On returning from San Bernardino, when I reached a spot near Cedar City, I came up with the Seeley family, and traveled with them as far as Pleasant Grove, staying with them for a short time. I then returned to Salt Lake and went to live with Lorenzo Pettit down near the Jordan River.

To be continued...

Edwin Pettit Autobiography, Part 5

[Edwin was 15 and 16 years old during the events narrated in this excerpt.]

I left Pomeroy’s company here and joined this independent company. We bought a yoke of oxen and the front wheels of a wagon and made them into a cart. Packed all our goods on that and in order to save the cattle, I took a bundle of our goods, tied them together, and carried them on my shoulders across the desert. One man belonging to our company died crossing this desert.

We arrived in San Bernardino, recruited our stock, and then made our way down to Los Angeles. I reached here during the rainy season, when the streets were pools of water from the heavy rains; had to sleep right on the ground, and many a time was soaked before morning.

 

1850 daguerreotype of San Pedro, California. For more information about life in California at this time, read Richard Henry Dana's book Two Years Before the Mast.

We disposed of our cattle for a good price, and went down to San Pedro where there were a few adobe huts standing. Here we found mostly Mexicans who killed cattle for the hide and tallow for shipment. As it was considered a very dangerous harbor, a vessel would only stop there once in a great while. Here we engaged passage in an old sailing craft for San Francisco at $25.00 each. I was very seasick about half the time while on the boat. We caught a shark while on board, and we all helped to eat it.

The Ship Brooklyn sailed from Old Slip, Manhattan, around the southern tip of South America, to Juan Fernandez Island (Robinson Crusoe's island), the Sandwich Islands (Hawaii), and from there to Yerba Buena (San Francisco). More than 200 Saints were on the voyage which took almost six months.

We landed in San Francisco after twelve days on the ship. Here we found friends who had sailed all the way from Brooklyn, N. Y. Some of the people here were from my old home in New York. Sam Brannan had fitted up a ship called the “Brooklyn.” He was put in charge of a company of the Saints who traveled around Cape Horn down to San Francisco, and after arriving there he tried to induce President Brigham Young and associates to come on to California, but he would never consent to this.

 San Francisco Harbor, 1851.

One lady whom I met in San Francisco gave me and some other boy a calico shirt, as we were badly in need of them.

"Degrees of fortune in the California Gold diggings."

We worked a few days in San Francisco to get a grub-stake to go to the mines. Went by steamboat up to Sacramento, and there met many friends. Here we engaged a team and took our mining tools out into the mines. On the 6th day of April, the day that the Conference convened in Salt Lake City, we had just reached the gold mines. We spent five months and four days making the trip from Salt Lake to our destination.

Sacramento, 1849.

We were not very successful at the mines and in the fall of 1850 we returned to Salt Lake. There were many who were discouraged, as they could not get any word from Salt Lake more than once a year. We went to Sacramento and bought two mules and fitted out for our return home, traveling by way of the Humboldt River—the northern route—in company with C. C. Rich and others. Crossing the desert we met a man who was selling water by the bucket. He had hauled the water out on the desert waiting for travelers to come along.

During this trip we had considerable trouble with the Indians. In the first part of our travels, we passed two graves of men who had been killed by the Indians. Traveled up the Humboldt River about three days. The wagons always took the lead and I generally rode one mule, and packed the other with our supplies. One day one man fell too far behind the company, letting his horse pick the grass as he came along; the Indians came out from the willows and tried to cut him off from the rest of the company, but he hollered and some of the company turned back to his assistance and the Indians took fright and ran back.

 

Tents at the Humboldt River, 1859, almost a decade later.

Leaving the Humboldt River I was sent out with another man to herd our band of animals over night so they could get the grass. We stood the first guard up till 12 o’clock, and then I started out for the camp to wake up the next guard. The night was very dark and it was hard to tell just which way to go to find the camp, so my companion told me the way as nearly as he could. I left him in charge of the animals, and had not gone more than half way when my mule took fright and ran away. Whether it was Indians I did not know. I lost my hat and have never found it yet. The mule finally returned back to the herd. This created some excitement; I told my partner what had happened and we finally decided that he should try to find the camp, which he did, and we got the other guards as we were badly in need of rest, I being left entirely alone, surrounded with Indians, awaiting their return.

At one place during our journey we came across the foot prints of a man and the marks in the sand of a wheelbarrow. Finding a place where there had been a camp fire, we soon discovered that the Indians had made away with this party. We followed the tracks of this wheelbarrow into the valley of Salt Lake, arriving in the fall of 1850.

Salt Lake City, 1850.

To be continued...

Part 1

Part 2 
Part 3
Part 4

All of the pictures are from Wikipedia with the exception of the picture of the gold diggers from Walter Colton, Three Years in California, New York, 1850.

Edwin Pettit Autobiography, Part 4

All the land in the city was surveyed and we drew lots for it. By doing this, we got twenty acres of ground, and put in a crop. During this time, we had to depend upon my brother-in-law, who was a pretty good gunman, as it was very hard for us to get along, and occasionally he would bring in a quail or a wild duck. Many a time we have had to depend on thistle roots or pig weed as our bill of fare. I have taken the brass buttons off my coat and traded to the Indians for segos—anything to get enough to eat.

For two years we spent our time in getting along the best we could, depending on the canyons for our wood. At one time, after our crops were nearly ready for harvesting, the grasshoppers and crickets came by the thousands and almost caused a famine in the land by destroying our grain fields. The seagulls came to our rescue and devoured the crickets and grasshoppers and we were able to save a small portion of our crops.

Early in November, 1849, my brother-in-law and myself, enlisted with Pomeroy [1] to help him take his big ox train through to California. Pomeroy brought an ox train through from the eastern states with merchandise and sold out what he could and traded the remainder for cattle. He took me along to drive his cattle on horseback. There were about forty or fifty head of cattle that I had to take charge of. He had about twenty wagons with two men and two yoke of oxen to each wagon. These men boarded themselves, but were paying their way to California by driving these teams.

During the day I drove the cattle, and had to corral them at nights to keep them from the Indians. I was always the one to turn out the cattle every morning to let them eat while we had breakfast and got ready for our move. Then I had to bring up the cattle and eat my breakfast after everyone else was done. The cattle got tired and footsore—so much so that they began to give out and lie down, and when I could not get them up any longer, I would have to leave there. I would leave two a day; five a day; as they gave out, and the last day I was with the company, I left nineteen head of cattle, as they could not go any further. When we reached the Muddy Desert [2], our teams were so reduced and the cattle so nearly gone that we put the wagons off to one side, using them for kindling wood, and packed everything up into as few wagons as possible.

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About two weeks after Pomeroy left Salt Lake, there was an independent company started out for the gold mines of California, and they got out on the desert and got lost. They were without water or food and were about to perish. They could not agree on which way to go, and some started out afoot—alone. They reached the Muddy Desert just at the time we did—ragged, starved, and almost perished. When this company were out on the desert and did not seem to agree, Apostle Chas. C. Rich [3] started out from the camp one morning, and the boys asked where he was going. He said he was just going out for a short distance and would be back soon. They thought probably he was out of his mind. He said: “I am just going over here to pray for rain.” They waited for him to come back, and just as he arrived in camp the clouds were seen to arise from the southwest and the rain poured down and soaked up the ground. They got all they could in buckets and cooled off their cattle and horses. Ponds of water were left on the ground and they were all revived. Some of them later came up with Pomeroy’s company near the Muddy.

To be continued...

Part 1

Part 2 
Part 3

[1] This appears to be Francis Martin Pomeroy, one of the early pioneers, later a pioneer in the Bear River (Utah-Idaho border) area, and later in life, one of the founders of Mesa, Arizona. Here is an interesting biography.

[2] Southern Clark County, Nevada, in the area of the Muddy (formerly Moapa) River, approximately between St. George and Las Vegas. If you've ever driven on I-15 between these two cities, imagine doing it on foot!

[3] Charles C. Rich was an early leader of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and one of the founders of San Bernardino, California. Chapter 3 in the book Establishing Zion: The Mormon Church in the American West, 1847-1869 by Eugene Campbell, "The Lure of California Gold," is online and it tells about the gold mission and explains and provides context for some of Edwin Pettit's upcoming adventures.

Photo of the Seagull Monument on Temple Square in Salt Lake City from http://www.flickr.com/photos/atelier_tee/755946918/. Photo of the plaque on the Seagull Monument from http://www.flickr.com/photos/msbunburyist/218855293/.

Edwin Pettit Autobiography, Part 3

In the spring of 1847 we moved camp, and passed through Winter Quarters, where the main part of the Saints had been camped all winter. All the companies rallied to a place near a stream called Elk Horn, where they organized into companies of hundreds, fifties and tens, with a captain over each.

Bishop Edward Hunter was appointed captain of fifty: John Lowry was appointed captain of ten families in which all the Seeleys were members, my sister and myself with the rest.[1] I was thirteen years of age at this time. Most of the time we traveled in double columns—that is, two rows of teams in order to keep the company together and away from the Indians.

In camping over night our wagons were placed to form a circle, an opening being left at one end to drive the cattle in to keep them from the Indians, guards being place around the outside.

 

Fuel was very scarce most of the time and when we wanted a fire everyone would go out to gather buffalo chips, and some of the daintier sex instead of picking them up with their hands, used tongs to gather them with. Before we had gone very far, they got very bravely over this, and would almost fight over a dry one. We could see buffalo as thick as the leaves on the trees for miles around. We had a great deal of trouble from them, having to scare them away with guns in order to make a passage. 

We saw many Indians, but for the most part they were very friendly and peaceable. At one place on the Platte River, some of the boys and myself went down to swim at noon time, and I got beyond my depth and was nearly drowned.

We traveled mostly on foot, the wagons being used to carry the provisions. Sometimes an ox and a horse would be hitched together to make the trip. In the latter part of the journey, when our cattle began to get tired and footsore, sometimes lying down, it was a difficult matter to get them on their feet again. We had a calf that gave out, and we had to leave him one afternoon. The next morning, while the folks were getting breakfast, I was put on a horse and sent back several miles to bring the calf. One place where there was a double road, with a swamp in the middle I saw four Indians coming. I left one road and passed over into the other to avoid the Indians. When they saw me, they passed over into that road also to meet me. I was riding a good horse, and had a good half mile the start of them, but I did not think to turn and run back. I went right ahead and met them. They came up, talked to me a few minutes, and they let me pass right along. It is almost a miracle that they did not take my horse, as it was a very good one and I often think of it as being a very foolish act on my part. I was never afraid of the Indians, and I presume this is the reason I was not more cautious. However, I found the calf and returned to the company.

We traveled from day to day feeling as happy and cheerful as possible under the conditions, covering from ten to fifteen miles a day.

Our last camp before entering the valley of Salt Lake would be a short distance above the mouth of Emigration Canyon.

After a journey of about four or five months, we reached Salt Lake on the 19th day of September, 1847. We joined some of the emigrants on what is now known as Pioneer Square. It was then surrounded by a high mud wall as a protection against the Indians, with port holes on all sides and a large gate on each side. I lived near the northwest corner of the square, where my brother-in-law and sister and myself had two houses of one room each, for which my brother-in-law traded provisions. Many a time we have stood with an umbrella over the table to keep the water from coming through on our food, and tin pans set over the bed to catch the water that dripped through the mud roof. We stayed here for two winters.

We started to farming—plowed and put in grain, but it did not amount to much. We used to go through the wheat fields where all the grain had been taken off, and glean the fields, fan out the wheat and grind it through a coffee mill to make pancakes. If we got enough for one hot cake, we considered ourselves very fortunate.

To be continued...

Part 1

Part 2 


[1] Edwin traveled in the Edward Hunter-Jacob Foutz Company. Here is a list of the members of the company, and all known accounts about the company, including Edwin's, which is one of the more detailed accounts.

C.C.A. Christensen picture of Winter Quarters from Wikipedia. Mormon Trail map from Wikipedia. Picture of the buffalo chip, with much thanks, from Tim Hettler at www.flickr.com/photos/timhettler/20349078/. Picture of the buffalo herd from www.flickr.com/photos/senzenina/685683188/#/. And finally about the photo of the mountains in autumn: yes, I realize that it's the mountains above Provo, but the picture was taken on September 20th, which was just a day later in the season than when the wagon train arrived in Salt Lake City. From www.flickr.com/photos/msn678/274134737/.

Edwin Pettit Autobiography, Part 2

In February 1846, the people began leaving Nauvoo for the west, and my sister and her husband decided to go with them. At this time they were both good members of the Mormon faith. I was given to understand that if I wished to go West, there would be a way provided for me. I wanted to go with my sister but the rest of the children opposed my going, as did also my guardian.[1]

A man was sent from the Mormon camp to pilot me to the camp of my sister, which was some miles away. This young man took me to the camp; my guardian and brothers followed me, took me back on horseback—I riding behind my brother. I didn’t get to see my sister as they overtook me before I reached her. In a short time there was another man made his appearance in the neighborhood on the same errand, a man that I was acquainted with. We made an appointment to meet at a certain place and make our escape if possible. I got up very early in the morning, and went down stairs with my shoes in my hands. My guardian was dozing in his chair as I slipped out unknown to him, and put my shoes outside. I soon fell in with my friend, and we tramped all day without anything to eat to reach the spot where I was to join my sister. Instead of going into camp, I lay out in the prairie all night alone. The captain of this company called the people together and told them if there was anybody inquiring for me to tell them there was no such boy in camp—I was not in the camp at this time; I was staying out in the prairie. The parties were hunting for me again, but failed to find me.

Disguised as a girl, and in company with four or five girls, I crossed the Des Moines River on a flat boat; the boat man being none the wiser, supposing I was a girl with the rest. I was wearing side-combs in my hair, and false curls covered my head. I was also wearing a sunbonnet in order to make the disguise more complete. 

On landing on the opposite side of the river, an old friend met me on horseback, and took me on behind him. As is well known, girls are supposed to ride sideways, especially where there are a great many people to observe them, and I also took that precaution. In going along the road, the people would sometimes holler out: “Old man, that girl will fall—she’s asleep,” because I was trying to hide my face. He turned around and said: “Mary Ann, wake up. You’ll fall off and break your neck.” The people thought his little girl was asleep. People at that time were trying to get away from Nauvoo and all the surrounding country, and we passed a good many on the way. I at last reached my sister’s camp, near a place called Indian Creek.

In a short time the people broke camp and started on their long journey to the West. We crossed the State of Iowa, and reached Pigeon Grove, a distance of about three hundred and fifty miles. This was named after the wild pigeons which were very numerous. There were so many Seeleys gathered here that it was later on called Seeley’s Grove; located about twelve miles from Council Bluffs, where we spent the winter.[2] 

There were about twenty-five families in our company. We were located in a beautiful grove of trees and we fell to work cutting trees to build our homes. We cut the logs from fourteen to eighteen feet long and helped each other roll them up together to build the houses. There were my two uncles and their families; my cousin, Lorenzo Pettit, with his wife; my sister and her husband with four Seeley [they spelled it Seely] families, and others; my sister having married David Seeley. We built houses and put flat log roofs on; covered them with dirt. Wagon boxes standing outside of the door made room sufficient for a family, people mostly sleeping in their wagon boxes, although it was very cold. 

It was a hard winter and many cattle died for want of fodder. We used to take turns in going out with a herd of cattle where there was plenty of feed on a stream called the Buoyal [perhaps Henchal Creek], and some members of the camp had to stay with them all winter to milk the cows, make the butter, and herd the stock. The snow was very deep, but this was the only way we had of taking care of our stock. We used to cut down young trees and let the cattle browse on the leaves and bark in order to keep them alive. My uncle lost so many of his oxen that he could not move the following spring with the rest of the company. In the spring we planted radishes, lettuce, and onions, in a small place right in front of the door. 

With my brother-in-law, I went down into Missouri with two yoke of oxen and a wagon to get breadstuff and other things to do us on our way after leaving Seeley’s Grove. We traded off some little things we had for anything that we could use on the road—things that we felt we could possibly get along without on our journey, in order to get enough food to do us on our way. I was the one that always drove the team. When we got back to our log cabin again, the little garden seeds that we had sown were all up and it was a great help to us. They were the only things we had in the way of garden stuffs, and they looked pretty good to us.

To be continued...

Part 1

I have added additional paragraph breaks to the story to make it easier to read. The picture of the Mississippi River viewed from Nauvoo is from http://www.flickr.com/photos/nanawriteon/2644612278/#/. The historical photo of the Des Moines River is from the Des Moines Public Library by way of http://www.flickr.com/photos/52460131@N07/4834640545/in/photostream/.

[1] Some of their descendants still live in the Midwest. Several years ago some of the Utah branch of the family was able to meet and tour the farm of one of the descendants of one of Edwin Pettit's brothers.

[2] I have not been able to find Indian Creek, Pigeon Grove or Seeley's Grove on any current map. The location names went went west with the settlers and can be found in biographies and stories of the Mormon migration. Here is a list of Mormon settlement names in Iowa: Settlement Listing. The linked map (Winter Quarters/Kanesville) shows Indian Creek but not the other two.

Edwin Pettit Autobiography, Part 1

[July 28, 2011. Here is a post with some notes about Edwin Pettit and his family.]

Edwin Pettit was born in Hempstead, New York (Long Island) in 1834. His family joined the church around 1840 and joined the westward migration of the Saints. His autobiography includes some remarkable experiences and stories. Some of them have been told often in his family and in the church. Here is the first installment.

Having been asked many times by my children and friends to relate some of my early experiences in the Pioneer days of the West, and particularly Utah, I have at last decided to do so, and will be as brief as possible, relating only those experiences which are stamped most indelibly on my mind.

Biography of Edwin Pettit

I am the son of Jesse and Mary Pettit. I was born in Queens County, New York, February 16, 1834. My father was a school teacher for a number of years; also a student of law. During the summer months he worked on his farm, which was very valuable, as it lay near the City of New York. He joined the Mormon Church about 1840. In the fall of 1841 my parents decided to gather with those of their faith at Nauvoo. Just prior to the time they moved West, an agent was sent out by the Mormon Church to trade land owned by them on the west side of the Mississippi River called Zarahemla, for the homes of those wishing to gather with the Saints. Father made a deal with this agent for some land, but while the agent was out, another man had gotten possession of the land, consequently, they never realized anything in exchange for their homes. We made preparations for leaving our home in New York; all our household goods—except what we desired to take with us—were sold at auction, or as it was then known, at “vendue.” We traveled sixteen miles by stage to the City of New York, and from there made our way by boat and otherwise across the country to the Mississippi River; traveled up the Mississippi River on steamboat; landed at Nashville, four miles below Nauvoo, in plain sight of the Nauvoo Temple. In company with my parents were two of my uncles and their families. The first house we occupied was owned by David Bennett. It consisted of two rooms, and we occupied one-half of it. Later on father bought a frame house of two rooms; one room on the ground floor, and one upstairs. The whole family, consisting of five boys and one girl, ranging from two years up to twenty years of age, occupied this house for the winter, which proved to be a very severe one.

In the spring of 1842, father and mother were both taken ill. The climate was very poor and unhealthy; this, together with the hardships we had undergone, and the worry and troubles they had had during the previous winter seemed to be too much for them, and they died within two weeks of each other, father on April 29, 1842, at the age of 49 years; mother on May 13, 1842 at the age of 44 years. They had never been able to get any land for the home which we had left, and this left the family almost destitute.

After the death of my parents, the court appointed a guardian to take charge of the children and all the effects. A value was placed upon all the household goods, and my oldest sister was charged up with everything and held accountable for all that was used. Consequently, everything was used up in a short time. My sister Mary kept house for the family, and we struggled along the best we could. Some of my brothers and I rented a piece of land and worked it to help get along. In 1844 my sister went on a visit to Long Island, and left me in charge of everything. I worked on the farm and did the cooking for the family while she was gone. She returned home and took charge of the family until she was married in 1845. When she was married my brothers and myself all moved into a better house, where we lived with her for a short time. Later on we boarded with our guardian, and we paid well for all we received, my brothers working at anything they could get to do.

To be continued...